After the Rain
by ToiletBrushCat
Summary: ONESHOT. My version of events after Hane no Zaia's fan fiction: Rain. My sequal. Please read Hane no Zaia's oneshot first. Pokerpair Poker Pair TykixAllen Tyki x Allen AllenxTyki


I WOULD APRECIATE IT IF EVERYONE TOOK NOTE THAT THIS IS _MY_ PART II OF WHAT_ I_ THINK WOULD HAPPEN NEXT AFTER **Hane no Zaia**'S FAN FICTION CALLED **Rain**.

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Rain (Part II)

It hurt. It hurt so much. His body ached and he could feel himself radiating heat from the fever he was sure he must have. He wanted to open his eyes and know just where he was, just what was happening, but, alas, he was so weak. He could not move a muscle, let alone open the lids glued shut across the silver pools he knew to lay beneath. Although he was trapped in the darkness that blindness brought, he could still feel. And feel he did. Waves of pain washed over him with each pulse of his straining heart. Pain engulfed his mind, causing every other sense to dull, till feeling was all he could do. So he was surprised when he felt a soft mattress beneath him. So soft and smooth. It eased his spine that he was sure should have been aching in time to the rest of him but instead he only felt pangs at irregular intervals. He tried ignoring the pain, concentrating on other things, for what he thought of consumed him to the point where he could feel nothing but the pain that was so prominent and endless. And then the pain dulled a little as he felt something new. Something that shocked him greatly, and something he was grateful for beyond belief. A hand pressed to his forehead.

He lent into the coolness, unable to think of anything but the relief it brought to his body. The cool limb on his feverish head. It was bliss in the middle of hell. And then the hand moved, removed, came away from him, left him alone once again in the dark where the pain ruled high. A sound escaped his dry, battered lips, a croak somewhere between a plea and sob. Between a cry and moan. And it returned. The sign he was not alone. That someone actually cared, even after everything that happened. Even after his betrayal. He had ran after all.

His mind began to fuzz around the edges and he recognised the feeling as sleep. He had not slept in a long time, only falling into unconsciousness after staying up for days at a time and exhausting himself beyond what most people would believe to be humanly possible. But now he recognised the sensation of him falling asleep. It was so different to the unconsciousness he was used to feeling. It was a sensation he never thought he would miss, never thought he would appreciate, and a feeling he would never take for granted ever again. The hand had let him find peace somewhere in his messed up mind did not leave him as sleep finally found him.

He had felt consciousness just beyond his reach for the last day or so. Actually heard some of the happenings around him at points in time, but still it eluded him, a reason to return to reality, leave the dream world. And then it returned. The hand that had allowed him peace all those hours ago, that felt like years to Allen who had been stuck on the brink for so long. The finger reached up into his hair to stroke out the tangles that had befallen the soft white mess, and soothed his mind to the point where he fell over the edge. There was no going back now. He was going to wake up. He would have to deal with it all now.

His eyes blinked open, but shut within milliseconds. The light, it burned his sight to the point where tears gathered and his breath hitched a little as other pains returned to him. His chest hurt. His heart. It thudded in a rhythm that was new to him, yet old in so many ways. His head hurt. His mind. It was exhausted even after so long sleeping and he could still hear the manic laughter intertwined with a melody, within the shadows, hiding in the deepest parts where he himself could not dwell. The soothing hand had stopped its ministrations, and paused before coming away from his head. Leaving him alone again. And then a shadow fell over him. He took the opportunity and opened the heavy lids once more and the tears took this chance to leak and trail down the sides of his face into his hair above his ears. And he met two golden fires. The two eyes above him glimmered and shifted with many emotions twisting and changing in their depths. He blinked and the eyes above him mimicked the motion. And then he took in more details. The face that went with the eyes for a start. Dark grey was the pallor of the skin. The eyes were bordered with thick dark lashes. And just below his left eye was a mark. Dark hair fell around the face in an endless cascade of waves that glimmered in the light his body was currently blocking from the bedridden boy's sensitive eyes.

"Tyki…" the croak that left his mouth was barely a whisper and hardly recognisable as speech. The sensation of the air forced out of his lungs, and up the ragged throat, in a new way did not please his body, and it through him into a fit of coughs that raked his small frame, shaking him down to his very soul. Allen turned onto his side and curled in on himself, his body finding comfort in the fetal position. And the hand returned, rubbing circles into his back, demanding, in a way, for his body to be soothed, for the shaking boy to be well for Tyki did not find pleasure in this person's pain. The coughs eventually ceased, and, shortly after, the gasps of breaths returned to normal. Slowly Allen's muscles relaxed once more and he allowed the man above him to turn him body back over onto his back as the fit had left him too weak to move once more. "…Tyki" this time he was to breathless for any sound to pass his chapped lips, but the Noah of pleasure knew the word behind the movement.

"Shounen." He stated. The white head's breath hitched once again when the skilled fingers returned to his hair, smoothing it, and he relaxed even further into the gentle touch. A small smile worked its way onto Tyki's face. "You should sleep some more, you're still unwell, the change is yet to fully complete…" He trailed off as the boy's eyes, that had been drifting shut, snapped open, panic evident in their depths.

"No! I don't…don't want…I'll disappear…don't want…to…disappear…" The boy wheezed and broke down into another fit of coughs.

_Hush, all will be well young one._

The still silver eyes widened even more as the voice invaded his mind.

"14th…!" The boy gasped. Now it was Tyki's turn to be startled.

_How many time must I remind you of my name, shounen?_ The voice remarked becoming a little frustrated at being called a number.

"Neah…what…?" The boy was thoroughly confused, as was Tyki who could only watch and hear half the conversation taking place, and it did not appear to be the intelligent half either…

_Boy, they were wrong you know…I do keep telling you but you don't listen. You are indeed my host and indeed my successor just as they keep telling you._

"But…" He began to cough again but the noise could not cover up something within one's own head. And so the talking continued.

_You are my successor _and_ the next fourteenth Noah, you just got the addition of all my memories. I no longer hold any powers of the 14__th__, they are all your own. They were lost to me the moment I dyed, and, as my memories were trapped, they became attached to the power, and so I have become trapped within you also._

Between coughs, Allen gasped out another "…but…" Even whilst this was an insufficient response Neah could hear the true meaning behind the single word within the boy's thoughts.

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Please review! xxx


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